


Finding Summertime

by Charlynch



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Cowboy AU, F/F, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-04 20:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18611497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlynch/pseuds/Charlynch
Summary: A wrangler and cowhand at the Valley Creek Ranch, Bayley is a sensitive soul with a natural skill for handling animals unlike anything her boss, Mr Banks, has ever seen. Even arrogant fellow wrangler and rodeo starlet Charlotte can acknowledge Bayley’s quiet talent. However, when Bayley finds Mr Banks, who prefers to simply be known as “Sir”, has employed a plucky Irish mesteñero to help with the calving come winter, Bayley worries that the boss doesn’t think she’s capable of doing her job. As it turns out, Mr Banks has a greater challenge for Bayley than any wild horse or free running steer. His frail daughter Sasha has returned from her stint at a private overseas finishing school, sent home as a result of her ill health in the hopes that the country air might do her some good. Without any womenfolk on the ranch to tend to the young mistress’s needs, Bayley is enlisted to help Sasha throughout her convalescence and to ensure she experiences the full benefits the lush landscape around the ranch has to offer. There’s only one problem; Sasha has a wilder spirit than any mustang, and Bayley can’t help but fall in love with her insatiable lust for reckless freedom from her father’s expectations.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sKARIreads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sKARIreads/gifts).



> [For gingerstrapbex on Tumblr]
> 
> [short first chapter as a bit of a tester to gauge interest]

The heat was relentless, the sunlight almost oppressively bright as Bayley pushed her horse onward to ford the stream. In the distance, a herd of mustang browsed the dry, tan grass that carpeted the plains, the verdure subdued to shades of browns and russets by the late summer heat. Bayley shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, the scarlet sheen of sunburn crawling down her shoulders and arms. She’d hoped she could find the lost steer and have her home all in time for lunch, but it was gone noon, and there was still nary a hoofprint to be found that might have indicated where the heifer had gone; it was so hot, that ground had dried too hard for any tracks to imprint themselves and make Bayley’s job a little easier. Bayley’s horse, Bucky, relished the cool water of the stream, pausing to dip his magnificent chestnut head and drink deeply, letting the water flow pleasantly around his fetlocks.

“Good boy,” Bayley murmured, patting the muscled slab of his shoulder, gleaming copper in the sun. She made note of a distant shape on the horizon, a lone figure on horseback with a cloud of red hair escaping from beneath the brim of their hat, and briefly wondered their business so close to the ranch. As far as she could tell, it was certainly not the ranch’s only other horse wrangler, Charlotte, or any of the cowboys she worked alongside. Bayley gently pressed Bucky onward, and he reluctantly clambered out of the stream, letting a shiver of irritation flicker across his penny-bright hide. Perhaps she could meet this visitor on their way in; they might’ve seen the steer in their travels. Bucky trotted over the dry grass obligingly, his ears pricked as he too made note of the approaching horse. As the horse grew closer, Bayley could see it was a palomino, as bright gold as a newly minted coin, ridden by what was most definitely a woman. Bayley waved, the rider waved back, kicking her horse into a light canter and drawing up a few feet away. Bucky extended his neck to sniff curiously at the palomino, lipping the horse’s mane with interest. The palomino reciprocated.

“Looks like the horses are doin’ the introductions for us,” the woman, though Bayley would have said she was scarcely more than a girl, said with a grin. “I’m Becky.”

Her lilting accent and red hair instantly told Bayley she was not a local by a long shot.

“Bayley,” Bayley said brightly, leaning over in the saddle to extend a hand to Becky, who shook her hand with a firm grip. “Little far from home for an Irishwoman, ain’t you?”

“My home will always be the back of my horse, Bayley,” Becky said with a twinkle in her dark eyes. “My home will follow me wherever I go. Now, am I right in assumin’ you’re from the Valley Creek Ranch? Mr Banks is expectin’ me.”

“That I am,” Bayley replied, reining in Bucky and turning him so neatly and prettily it was almost a pirouette. “I’ll take you back. Say, didn’t happen to see a loose steer on your way down here?”

Becky shook her head, letting her horse fall into step with Bucky. Up close, Bayley could see the horse was of very fine breeding, with a lovely noble head and a naturally collected gait worthy of a dressage horse. Charlotte wasn’t going to be happy about this; a horse in the stables prettier than her darling Gunsmoke? Unacceptable.

“That’s some horse,” Bayley remarked, nodding at Becky’s steed. “Flashy.”

“Thank you, she is indeed. I’m not one for pedigrees and papers, but she was a gift from my time down south. She’s an Azteca, it’s a Mexican breed,” Becky explained, slapping the horse’s neck fondly. “Her name’s Caoimhe. And though she’s pretty, don’t be fooled none, she’s as fine a cuttin’ or cattle horse as any of the coffin-headed cow horses most ranchers prefer.”

“This is old Bucky,” Bayley replied, ruffling his mane. “He’s nothing special, just a quarter horse, but he’s got cow sense like no horse you’ve ever seen. I’ve had him since I was a kid, he’s my best friend out here.”

Becky let out an appreciative whistle.

“He’s in great shape,” she mused as she admired the sorrel gelding; he studied her with similar interest with one dark eye, his ears swivelling to follow Becky and Bayley’s conversation. “Handsome too, with that white blaze. I always think blazes make horses look like they have such a sweet facial expression.”

“Big on horses then?” Bayley asked, making polite conversation as they picked their way back toward the ranch.

“Oh for sure,” Becky replied enthusiastically. “Was a mesteñero before this. I know I’m here for calvin’, but I’m hopin’ I might get out on the plains to do some bronc bustin’ whilst I’m here.”

“Sir -that’s Mr Banks by the way- does love his horses, and makes good money on ‘em, but he’s not over fond of the mustangs. He rears his herd out on the range, the old fashioned way, but it does mean sometimes we end up with little half mustang foals that aren’t much good for sellin’ on,” Bayley explained. “He rears Arabians for show y’see, so it’s usually fancy folks lookin’ to buy that want all the papers and nonsense with ‘em.”

“I’d heard of the Valley Creek Arabians; they win damn near every show they enter. Can’t believe I get to see them up close,” Becky said wistfully, and Bayley smiled. Anybody this fond of horses had to be a good person; she had the feeling she’d found a friend already. As they made their way down the trail to the ranch, Becky enthusiastically regaled Bayley with tales from her time in Mexico, rounding up wild horses and driving them down to sell. She spoke of the dancing charro horses, the wild buzz of the auctions, the deep hazy heat of summers spent driving mustangs. Riding into the yard, Bayley spotted the missing steer she’d been looking for all morning, standing complacently by a hitching post.

“I gotta get this girl back with the others. You good to go see Sir from here?” Bayley asked, using Bucky to nudge the cow back toward the cowshed.

“Yeah, I’m good from here. Thank you for walkin’ me down here,” Becky replied with a warm smile, tipping her hat at Bayley. Bayley responded in kind, watching with curiosity as Becky made her way toward the stables to put up Caoimhe before going to speak to Sir. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something told her this Irish stranger and her golden horse, blown in on a southern wind, were going to make things a lot more interesting at Valley Creek.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Bayley crossed her arms and watched with a furrowed brow as Charlotte, golden and statuesque as ever, ghosted the mare’s flank with the lunging whip, encouraging her to try leading with her other leg.

“Just as I thought,” Charlotte said grimly. “She’s lame.”

Becky hung over the sand school fence, chin propped up on her folded arms.

“Is she yours?” Becky asked, gesturing at the fleabitten grey horse Charlotte was lunging in the arena. Charlotte gave a short laugh in response.

“No, she’s a little small for me. She’s one of the cowpokes’, he pushed her too hard and he’s turned her lame,” Charlotte replied, halting the mare and moving over to inspect her hooves. “She’s gonna need box rest.”

“Oh for cryin’ out loud,” Bayley groaned. “I’ve told ‘em enough times, and Sir’s told ‘em too, they gotta be careful coming down the scree on the Flint Knife trail.”

“You get a lot of injured horses in the remuda?” Becky asked as she neatly leaped over the fence and joined Charlotte beside the mare. Bayley didn’t miss the way Charlotte flushed slightly when Becky’s fingers overlapped hers as she held the mare’s hoof to flex her fetlock. Charlotte cleared her throat and hurriedly moved to the mare’s head, beginning to switch her lunging tack for a simple halter to lead her back to her stall. Becky backed off, bewildered, looking to Bayley for an explanation as Charlotte led the limping mare away.

“She’s a little, uh...” Bayley began, watching Charlotte’s retreating back as though it might help her find the words. “Standoffish, at first. Just because she’s shy. Don’t worry, she’ll come around.”

Becky nodded, unable to tear her gaze from Charlotte.

“She’s really pretty,” Becky said quietly, and Bayley had to smile; the infamous Charlotte Effect had set in quickly.

“Pretty, but crazy enough to eat the devil with horns on. If you think she’s beautiful, you should see her horse,” Bayley replied with a grin, shoving Becky’s shoulder. “You falling’ for her so soon? You just got here.”

Becky shoved Bayley back, laughing with embarrassment.

“Come on, cut me some slack,” Becky groaned. “I’ve been on the trail for an age to come out here. Maybe I need a little companionship.”

“To answer your question from earlier,” Bayley continued primly. “We do get injuries here and there, yeah. Horses get kicked, idiots ride them too hard, the terrain gets to ‘em, all sorts. If you’re any good at equine first aid, you’re gonna be spending a lot of time with Charlotte.”

“As it happens,” Becky said smoothly, leaning back on the fence and tilting her face up toward the sky. “I’m pretty great on the old first aid. So maybe I’ll find a way to uh, ‘make friends’. You said she’s good at ridin’ a horse, right?”

“One of the best,” confirmed Bayley. “Even if she has to be ridiculous about it.”

“I wanna see what else she’s good at ridin’,” Becky remarked, raising an eyebrow, though she lost her composure and began snorting with laughter at Bayley’s yell of protest.

“You’re a pig!” Bayley cried, though she was unable to suppress a smile at Becky’s roguish antics. The hilarity was interrupted, however, as Bayley noticed Sir carefully picking his way across the yard toward them. The spurs on his boots jingled melodically, catching the light with their high polish. Quickly rearranging her expression into some semblance of sobriety, Bayley greeted Sir, both her and Becky removing their hats out of respect.

“Glad to see you’re makin’ good with your superiors,” Sir commented to Becky, who looked momentarily astonished until Sir let out a tremendous belly laugh. “Bayley here’s got cow sense like nobody’s business. Without her, I’d be a ruined man. You stick with her, she’ll show you the ropes.”

Becky nodded mutely.

“Thank you Sir,” Bayley replied for her, nudging Becky sharply in the ribs with her elbow. Sir was a towering giant of a man, even taller than Charlotte, with a deep, earthy voice that just seemed to command attention; Bayley could understand Becky’s intimidation.

“Now, I’ve got a job for you two,” Sir continued as though Bayley hadn’t spoken. “An’ it’s a mighty hard row to hoe, but I trust you. As you know, I like to pick out my horses myself. That bein’ said, my dear Sasha is back at the end of this week, an’ I’m gonna need a good mount for her. Gotta be bombproof, strong, nice smooth gait, for she’s not keepin’ too hearty. We haint got anythin’ I’d class as a nice lady’s ridin’ horse, so I’m askin’ you to go to auction an’ find me one.”

“O-of course Sir,” Bayley said, dumbfounded. “I didn’t think she rode much, Sir.”

“She don’t, mostly too weak these days for it,” Sir answered gruffly, a sad note colouring the edges of his words. “But the doctors say she oughta get out and enjoy the country air, so I says to myself, Banks, you get that girl a horse.”

“No better way to see the world than from the back of a horse,” Becky commented, almost yelping with surprise as Sir clapped her hard on the back and roared with laughter again.

“Neither hay nor grass and brisk up as an old hand,” Sir said, wiping away tears of mirth. “I like you. You an’ Bayley bring back a good hoss, an’ you got work here even after the calvin’ finishes.”

“T-thank you Sir!” Becky stammered, looking very pale. Sir simply doffed his hat to both of them and walked away.

“That’s a good sign,” Bayley remarked. “Sir don’t like many people. Looks like we got our first run together too. C’mon, we’ll get some grub and turn in; we gotta start thinkin’ about gettin’ this horse tomorrow,” Bayley advised, leading Becky toward the cowpoke’s quarters. With any luck, Charlotte would be at dinner and Becky’s nervous rambling would provide Bayley with some entertainment alongside her meal.

 

“Now she’s skinny enough to take a bath in a shotgun barrel,” Bayley was saying as Becky saddled up Caoimhe. “So we won’t want anythin’ too big.”

“Might be an idea to look for an ambler,” Charlotte suggested from the next stall where she was grooming Sir’s horse, a towering buckskin appaloosa mare with one blue eye and the gentlest face Becky had ever seen. “They move so smoothly, they won’t jostle the young lady in the saddle none.”

“Has to be pretty, too,” Becky mused, reaching through the bars to pet the appaloosa’s velvety nose, the horse lipping at her affectionately as she did so. “Sir said ‘a lady’s ridin’ horse’.”

“You gonna look for something fancy?” Charlotte asked, raising her voice over the soft sound of the dandy brush against the horse’s coat. “Becky, wanna come through pet her properly? Watch yourself now, she’ll be all over you. Her name’s Clover.”

Becky nodded keenly, leaving Caoimhe’s stall to enter Clover’s stall beside Charlotte. Clover immediately thrust her head into Becky’s chest, rubbing her face all over her shirt, searching for treats in her pockets.

“I guess we’ll know when we find the right horse,” Bayley shrugged. “Sir don’t care none for high-falutin breeds; if he wanted somethin’ papered, he coulda given her one of the Arabians.”

“They’re all a mite puddin’ footed for a sickly girl, though,” Becky pointed out, as Clover began to chew on her hair with an absent, dreamy expression.

“Arabians are like that,” Charlotte shrugged. “Either way, you best make sure you bring back something gentle and pretty, whether it’s a mongrel or a pedigree show pony.”

“Don’t you worry none, we got it all in apple pie order. I’ll bring back the sweetest horse you’ve ever seen, and it’ll be so pretty it’ll make your Gunsmoke look downright plain-headed,” Bayley teased.

“All that coffin varnish you swig with the cowpokes has turned you silly in the head,” Charlotte replied smugly. “You’ll never find a horse prettier than Gunsmoke.”

“Can I see him?” Becky asked hopefully.

“We gotta get movin’,” Bayley reminded her, pointedly leading Caoimhe out of her stall. “You wanna come take your horse before I decide to run off with her?”

Reluctantly, Becky nodded and moved to leave Clover’s stall. As she passed, Charlotte rested a hand on her arm briefly.

“I’ll see you when you get back,” Charlotte said, a softness in her eyes that took Bayley by surprise. Perhaps Becky’s feelings weren’t so one-sided after all, Bayley thought to herself as they headed out to where Bucky patiently waited for them, hitched to the post and tacked up. As Bayley unhitched him and mounted in a single swift movement, Becky did the same, adjusting herself atop Caoimhe nervously as she spotted Charlotte waving them off from the stable block doorway.

“Ride to town, spend the night there, check out the auctions in the mornin’,” Bayley recited, going through their plan. “Horses are fresh and fast, hopefully we’ll get there by tonight.”

Becky nodded, flashing a smile at Bayley as she prepared to ride out into the summer unknown alongside a new friend.


End file.
